As much as I didn't care for 30 Days of Night, I absolutely loved the first two Walking Dead graphic novels (Days Gone By and Miles Behind Us - author is Robert Kirkman). This isn't too surprising, I suppose; even though the very concept of zombies terrifies me, there's something brilliantly fun about end of the world narratives and the stories of survivors. Since I took my solemn vow to not buy any more books until I read 100 of the ones I already had (and don't think I'm not keeping careful track), I'm waiting with baited breath to see if my beloved husband will get me one or two (or fifty) more of these graphic novels for Mother's Day. Yes, Mother's Day is the next plausible gift-giving occasion in our house, and I am asking for zombie stories.
And now I am really, really jonesing for the stories because I feel like I need the distraction of reading something, well... intensely distracting. Lately it feels like the whole world is falling apart. The earthquakes and tsunamis and everything else in Japan was depressing, but felt far away. Then yesterday I was browsing my Facebook friends' status updates and saw that a friend from college, Emily Rapp, had written a blog post. And I looked at it and found that her baby - her sweet, adorable, smiley (at least in photos!) baby named Ronan - has Tay Sachs disease. Which, for those not in the know, is genetic, progressive, incurable and fatal.
I have to step back a moment here and explain that Emily is one of those people who I have always admired for her brilliance and envied for her fantastic good looks. She's an amazing writer (her memoir, Poster Child, about growing up with a prosthetic leg is just great), too. We have never been close friends, but she was a reader at my wedding and she stayed with us a few years ago while she was on book tour. Mostly we went to the same college and participated in similar political activities (Feminists For Change, supporting the organization for gay students on campus, probably some other things but at this late date, who remembers?).
Basically, Ronan's fate doesn't have much to do with me. I will likely never meet him, although I can follow his blog and admire his Facebook photos. Emily lives on the other side of the country, so I'm no use to her, although I would love to be. But I'm still upset by this news, so much that my usual activities (obsessing about politics - I am so behind on the Libya situation at this point...) seem trivial. In fact, everything does.
I was reminded last night, a few hours after I discovered this horrifying news, that music can be a huge solace. I had to drive to a neighboring town to take my son's friend home, so I got to listen to the whole second act of the music from Rent. Say what you will about that show, hearing Without You seemed so perfect (even though I had forgotten that song entirely; mostly I just needed to hear a musical that I didn't think would make me sob, like Les Miserables always does). And I felt a little better after I got home.
Literature - even the type that is "only" zombie stories (yes, I know they're not Tolstoy or anything) - is also a source of solace for me. I love stories about surviving the end of the world anyway (my go-to novel when I'm sick is Stephen King's The Stand), and when it seems like everything that is happening on the planet is so dark, sometimes I guess it's good to see that, hey, things could be worse. I think there's some quote somewhere about how looking out into the dark from the dark, you can see a lot further... and maybe that's it, too.
Whatever, I hope I get to check out those zombie stories soon. Meanwhile, I'm working on the last book of Suzanne Collins' Underland Chronicles, Gregor and the Code of Claw. It's fine, but it's not really the distraction or the solace I'm currently seeking. On the upside, it will be one more book down on my quest to read books that are in my house.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Bad Stuff and Good Stuff
I have never thought of myself as a particularly tough critic of books. I like stories of all kinds; they just have to be believable and compelling. Maybe that's a high bar to set for every book (and having tried to actually write stories with those qualities, I guess I should say that it actually is...), but I don't think it's too much to ask.
This past week I've been struggling to read through another stripped book from my days at Barnes and Noble, Alchemy and Academe, edited by Anne McCaffrey. It's an anthology of fantasy short stories that fit in with the theme expressed in the title, and three stories in, I'm already avoiding it in favor of reading anything else at hand.
I should probably back up and explain that, not being a huge fantasy fan, I've never read anything by Anne McCaffrey. I have heard good things about her work, however, and I know she has some whole thing about dragons going on. I have no doubt that she has written some good stories in her time; what I question is her ability to choose (or possibly find) stories that fit in with her theme.
So far there hasn't been any sign of the things that actively turn me off in fantasy stories (namely fairies... man, as soon as a fairy shows up in a story, I am out of there). Instead the first three stories appear to be stories about academics or philosophers doing... well, whatever. In one the academics were in outer space (Sonya Dorman's "A Mess of Porridge"), being boring and obtuse, and also eating porridge. There's also one ("The Institute" by Carol Emshwiller), which is about an institute of higher learning for old women. Sort of interesting, but certainly not compelling. The third story I read, "Condillac's Statue" by R.A. Lafferty, was about philosophers making a statue come to life by adding senses to it... zzzzzzzzzz. Seriously, at least the first two had some feminist subtext.
I am starting to really dread reading the rest of this book, and I suppose it just proves that there is a reason some books don't sell; not all books are good. I will probably fight my way to the end of it, because even more than reading crap, I hate it when I am defeated by a book. I know that's not rational in a world where ever more interesting reading material is produced and we have a finite time allotted in our lives to enjoy it, but it's just my personality.
On the upside, I started reading the first The Walking Dead graphic novel (subtitled Days Gone By, author Robert Kirkman, art by Tony Moore and Cliff Rathburn), and it's a ton better than 30 Days of Night was. I'm sure I will keep reading this series for quite a while.
Also, the Walking Dead book is going to stay on my shelf for a long time, while I will take inordinate pleasure when I finally let myself recycle Alchemy and Academe.
This past week I've been struggling to read through another stripped book from my days at Barnes and Noble, Alchemy and Academe, edited by Anne McCaffrey. It's an anthology of fantasy short stories that fit in with the theme expressed in the title, and three stories in, I'm already avoiding it in favor of reading anything else at hand.
I should probably back up and explain that, not being a huge fantasy fan, I've never read anything by Anne McCaffrey. I have heard good things about her work, however, and I know she has some whole thing about dragons going on. I have no doubt that she has written some good stories in her time; what I question is her ability to choose (or possibly find) stories that fit in with her theme.
So far there hasn't been any sign of the things that actively turn me off in fantasy stories (namely fairies... man, as soon as a fairy shows up in a story, I am out of there). Instead the first three stories appear to be stories about academics or philosophers doing... well, whatever. In one the academics were in outer space (Sonya Dorman's "A Mess of Porridge"), being boring and obtuse, and also eating porridge. There's also one ("The Institute" by Carol Emshwiller), which is about an institute of higher learning for old women. Sort of interesting, but certainly not compelling. The third story I read, "Condillac's Statue" by R.A. Lafferty, was about philosophers making a statue come to life by adding senses to it... zzzzzzzzzz. Seriously, at least the first two had some feminist subtext.
I am starting to really dread reading the rest of this book, and I suppose it just proves that there is a reason some books don't sell; not all books are good. I will probably fight my way to the end of it, because even more than reading crap, I hate it when I am defeated by a book. I know that's not rational in a world where ever more interesting reading material is produced and we have a finite time allotted in our lives to enjoy it, but it's just my personality.
On the upside, I started reading the first The Walking Dead graphic novel (subtitled Days Gone By, author Robert Kirkman, art by Tony Moore and Cliff Rathburn), and it's a ton better than 30 Days of Night was. I'm sure I will keep reading this series for quite a while.
Also, the Walking Dead book is going to stay on my shelf for a long time, while I will take inordinate pleasure when I finally let myself recycle Alchemy and Academe.
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